A Time to Spy
by ChrisR
Summary: It's 1992 and big changes are in store for the Smart family and the world. Completing a trilogy that began with The Siegfried Follies and continued with Spying For Fun and Profit, bridging the gap between Get Smart, Again! and Get Smart '95.


This story takes place between Get Smart, Again! and Get Smart '95 and follows my earlier stories "The Siegfried Follies" and "Spying For Fun and Profit". Also, thanks to WebMistressGina for allowing the use of elements from her Team Smart universe throughout this series - ChrisR

"A Time to Spy"

Maxine Smart crawled on her hands and knees through the air-conditioning duct.

Ahead of her doing likewise was a young man with wavy blond hair. All things considered he was quite handsome, she supposed, but what she was seeing currently was definitely not his best angle.

"Hey, Nikolai."

"What is it?"

"Are we there yet?"

She has asked him this question at least a dozen times without getting any response but a humorless "Nyet!" but this time he turned and offered a half smile.

"Da."

He kicked out the ventilator he had stopped next to and lowered himself inside. Maxine followed him down and found herself in what appeared to be a storeroom. Nikolai pointed out of the window to an adjoining office block; only one window there remained alight, where the occupant was evidently working late.

"Dere he is: Your first assignment as a Kaos assassin."

Maxine unslung her rifle from where she had been carrying it on her back and peered through its high-powered telescopic sight. A figure sat in a chair before a desk covered in papers. "I see him," she said, and her finger tightened on the trigger.

-

_BEFORE:_

"It's time, Maxine."

Maxine looked up from her computer screen to see Maxwell Smart, her father, the Chief of Control, standing in the doorway of her office. "I told you, Dad. I'm not getting married 'til I find the right guy. If you want grandkids you'll just have to get them from Zach."

"That's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about what we were talking about."

"What were we talking about?"

"About you infiltrating Kaos."

"Oh, that. I thought that was over with once they discovered who I was."

"So did I but I think there may be a way we can make it work for us."

"How?"

"I'm bringing your brother into Control."

Maxine grinned. "Well, in that case, I'm outta here."

"Exactly."

"Dad! I'm kidding. I'd be thrilled for Zach to come and join us."

"I know that, Maxine. Just hear me out. The election is tomorrow so his work on your mother's campaign will be done whatever happens. And he told me he won't be going back to Juilliard. This is the right time for him to come in - but it also gives us an opportunity.

"Kaos is not like us; it's filled with traitors, back stabbers and double dealers. If you tell them you're turning against me for bringing your brother onto your turf they'll believe it."

"Sometimes I wonder if we're any better, Dad; lying our way in everywhere we go."

"Yes, but the difference is they like it. We _have_ to use trickery and deceit; we represent everything that's wholesome and good in the world."

Maxine smiled. "It seems to me I've heard you say that to Mom a time or two." She nodded thoughtfully. "You know, that's not such a bad idea."

"Why do you say it like that?"

"Sorry about that, Dad. I guess it's just that 88 mostly follows her instincts. Spending the last three years working with her has sharpened my reflexes but there isn't usually a lot of time to think about what we're doing. But this sounds just crazy enough to work."

"Now, as you know, this operation will be conducted under maximum security - triple A." Max frowned. "That reminds me, the Alfa Romeo is overdue for its annual service."

"I understand," Maxine replied. "Only you and I will know that I'm on a mission; everyone else will think I've really defected."

"I'd tell you to not even tell me if I could only figure out how to run things without any idea of what's going on."

She gazed at him in admiration. "If anyone can it's you."

"Listen, Maxine. There's still time to pull out of this if you want to."

"No way, Dad. I haven't forgotten what they did to Tom. Finally, now, someone's going to pay for it."

"It's settled then. But, please, be careful," Max warned her. "You're going to need those relexes; you'll need to keep your wits about you at all times. If Kaos even begins to suspect you're not on the level you'll be finished; you'll be facing constant danger every minute."

Maxine drew herself up. "And loving it," she intoned solemnly.

Max nodded. "That's my girl."

-

"This is the dullest shindig I've _ever_ attended."

At the sound of the familiar voice, 99 excused herself from the group of well-wishers she had been chatting with and turned around to find herself facing, not surprisingly, a familiar face.

"88!"

"99!"

"I'm so glad you were able to make it."

"It's the least I could do for my old mentor on her big night. No, seriously, it was the least I could do."

99 smiled. "You know, there's still a part of me that can't quite believe that this is all for me."

"Well, if it isn't, someone put up the wrong picture." 88 pointed to a row of identical posters high on the wall of the auditorium. Each had 99's face smiling down on them and was emblazoned with the slogan, 99 IN '92.

"Oh, don't remind me about those; they're so embarrassing."

"Nonsense, 99. There's nobody more qualified than you to do this job - seriously."

99's eyes twinkled. "Seriously? That's not like you."

"The lemons have got to come up sometime."

"And then you make lemonade?"

88 grinned. "Exactly."

"Well, it's very nice of you to say so; I really think I might be able to do some good. But enough talk about me. I hear you and Maxine have been doing a bit of globetrotting - setting the world right."

88 shrugged. "We try to help out where we can; sometimes it works out and sometimes it doesn't. But don't blame _us_ for Kuwait. State cut us out of the loop on that one. You know how that goes."

99 nodded. "I remember. Those 'friendly' interagency rivalries can get pretty fierce."

"We got even with them, though,"

"How?"

88 made a big show of looking around to make sure no one was listening before she whispered, "Let's just say it gave new meaning to the words 'Foggy Bottom'."

99 laughed. "It really is good seeing you again, 224."

88 grinned, acknowledging the use of her old rookie number. "Then let me be the first to say - "

As 88 spoke, a rotund gentleman in a top hat walked past blowing a streamer whistle. "Congratulations!" he called cheerily, before melting back into the crowd.

88 glared after him. "Rats!" she exclaimed.

99 smiled sympathetically. "It may be a little premature anyway," she said. "It's been looking good all night but the returns are still coming in." Suddenly the buzz of conversation lulled as the news anchor's face appeared on the television screens strategically placed around the hall. "Oh-oh, this could be it."

"InAction News can now project that there will be a change of administration in the White House," the pleasant-faced man announced. "And in local results, after making a good showing two years ago, former spy turned best-selling author - " Rring!! " - Smart has this time wrested the 12th District from incumbent Melvyn Buck."

Max's shoephone rang again as a cheer went up from the assembled campaign workers while the elderly woman beside him beamed proudly. "Well," she said, "isn't that something?"

Max used his other heel to depress the hold button to silence the ringing. "I've got to get this, Mom."

She gazed fondly at him. "You know, Son. You've been a wonderful husband to my daughter and a wonderful father to my grandchildren . . . "

"Thanks, Mom."

"But there's something I've got to tell you."

'What?"

"That shoephone gag is really wearing thin."

"But it could be the president," Max protested. "Or the _new_ president. Or someone even more powerful."

"Who could be more powerful than the president or the new president?"

"The new first lady."

"Son, my daughter wrote a very good story. But you don't have to keep pretending everything in her book is real on my account. I already liked you back when you were working for that attractive man at the greeting card company."

Max sighed and gave it up as a bad job. He said, "Thanks, Mom.", gave her a peck on the cheek and walked off to look for a quiet place to answer his shoe.

As Max walked away, she noticed a tall, solidly built man walking toward her.

"You're 99's mother," he said in a flat tone.

"Yes," she replied, although it hadn't been a question, "and I saw you talking to my son-in-law earlier. Are you a friend of his?"

"My name is Hymie."

"Really? My second cousin's name is Jethro. Did the kids at school tease you about it? Children can be very cruel."

"I understand that it's considered appropriate to extend salutations to the candidate's relatives." He held out his hand.

She took it uncertainly. "Salutations? How . . . nice."

"I'm programmed for niceness."

Meanwhile, Max, having found solitude in the deserted food preparation room, removed his shoe. "Chief Smart here." He listened for a moment. "Yes. Thank you for letting me know."

He was replacing the sole of the shoe when 99 entered. "I won," she said simply.

"I always knew you could do it, 99."

She took his free arm. "You always did, didn't you?"

"Then again, I also predicted a McGovern landslide in '72 but none of us is infallible."

"Aren't you going to listen to my speech?"

"I wouldn't miss it. I just had to take this call."

She squeezed his arm happily before releasing it. "I've got some nice things to say about you - and especially Zach. He's been such a big help with the campaign."

"Yes he has," Max mused. "Is he sure about not going back to Juilliard? I thought he loved music."

"He does. In fact his teachers say that he has an almost savant-like ability with numbers that gives him a natural affinity with music."

"It does?"

"Yes, the correlation between music and mathematics has been scientifically established."

"Then what's the matter?"

"Well, unfortunately, they also say that because of his physical clumsiness he'll never be able to play an instrument to a professional standard."

"Clumsiness?" Max repeated. "Where does he get _that_ from?"

As he spoke he leaned against the wall to steady himself while replacing his shoe. At least, he thought it was the wall. Actually it was a free standing shelving unit which gave way leaving him sprawled on the floor surrounded by dirty dishes.

99 smiled down at him. "I'm sure I couldn't say, Max."

He stayed seated on the floor while he put his shoe back on, then stood up. "I think it's time to bring him into Control," he said. "There's an opening in the research department that would be perfect for him. We'll see how he goes from there."

"He'll be so happy," 99 replied. "That was always his first dream anyway." Then she looked worried. "But how do you think he'll take it when he finds out that Maxine is his superior?"

"I . . . don't think that's going to be a problem."

She could hear the hesitation in his voice."What do you mean?"

"Something's going to happen," he said after a moment.

"What is it?"

"There are some things I can't even tell a congresswoman, 99. But I want you to be prepared."

"How can I be prepared if I don't know what it is?"

Max turned to her with those puppy dog eyes that always broke her heart. "Just remember what I said."

Years of agent training told 99 not to press. Fate was fickle; it could stroke you with one hand and strike you with the other. The battle would continue, she knew, but tonight was a time to celebrate a victory.

They emerged together back into the main reception area.

Zach stepped up to the microphone. Whoever had used it before must have been shorter so he started to adjust it upward. It came loose suddenly, causing it to impact under his chin, resulting in a loud din of feedback. This at least had the virtue of attracting the attention of the crowd.

"That didn't hurt," he assured the now silent gathering. "But you don't care about that - or maybe you do. I don't know how caring you all are and it's not polite to generalize."

You could almost hear the crickets. A discreet cough captured his attention and he noticed 99 waiting to take the platform. "Oh. Right. And now for a woman who needs no introduction . . . Although, if she needs no introduction, what am I doing here?"

"That's what we're all wondering," 88 called out, prompting general laughter.

"Please welcome your new congresswoman," Zach continued, undeterred. He smiled warmly. "My mom."

-

Siegfried watched 99's speech alone on a television set in his private suite.

The Kaos vulture glowered down at him. Despite his best - make that worst - efforts to derail her campaign, the Smarts had prevailed again.

He took another sip from his schnaps. In the privacy of his own mind he was forced to admit that, after some early successes, the past three years had not gone according to plan. First, Maxwell had beaten him to the punch in becoming Chief of his organization, a psychological head start which Siegfried had never overcome. Now, 99's congressional win would give the family even more influence.

He picked out Maxine Smart in the throng attending the rally. Despite her youth, she combined her mother's intelligence with her father's confidence, making her a formidable force. She and that wild-haired demon who was always with her had thwarted him almost as often as her parents had. He raised his glass toward the screen. _To a worthy foe._

And it was not just his personal battle with the Smarts that smarted. The so-called New World Order was not panning out to Kaos's liking. Communist regimes were dropping like flies and he and his minions had been powerless to prevent it. (Of course, Control and the Smarts had played their part in this, too.)

Siegfried had been around the spy game for a long time; he knew what this latest failure would mean for him. The dumkopfs and dunderheads were looking for someone to blame; as Chief he would be their target. Just as he had tricked and murdered his way into the Kaos leadership, so would come the end of his own tenuous grasp.

Perhaps Shtarker had been right to get out when he did, Siegfried reflected. He missed Shtarker. Shtarker had been his best friend. Shtarker would have been a perfect patsy.

Now Lili, Siegfried's personal secretary and sometime undercover agent, had gone AWOL. She must have had an inkling of what was coming, he realized. Lili didn't say much but she was a good listener.

He heard the door open and he turned. His 'loyal' lieutenant Nikolai was standing there and, behind him, two thugs bearing machine guns.

The drama of the moment called for dignity.

Siegfried smiled thinly. "Et tu, Nikolai?"

Then with a smirk at their uncomprehending faces he thought, _The heck with dignity; dignity don't feed the Doberman._

"Zat's Shakespeare, you - you ninnies!" he blasted. And then he blew them a raspberry - raspberry was his favorite.

-

Maxine stopped her car and looked out across the street at the Follies Theater.

It seemed inevitable now that she would wind up back here, the scene of her first case, the place she had learned the truth of how Kaos had killed Tom Blake, her first true love, because he had refused to allow them to recruit him.

It was a wonder that Kaos was still operating here since they had discovered her identity but that was the espionage business for you; a game of bluff and counter-bluff. Kaos kept the theatre open because they didn't want Control to know they knew and Control didn't raid it because they didn't want Kaos to know they knew they knew.

Maxine did regret the fact that, as close as they had become as a team, she had never been able to be fully honest with 88 about what had happened that first day. This was partly because it might have impinged on the secret mission that she and her father were planning but mainly because even now it was still too painful to talk about.

But somehow 88 had known. Somehow 88 always seemed to know what she needed to know in any given situation.

Maxine thought back to the last time she had seen her, just hours ago.

She'd been having a Mary Tyler Moore moment - taking a last look around her office before turning out the light and closing the door - when 88 had walked in looking somewhat more subdued than usual . . .

_"Maxine. I'm glad I caught you."_

_"Caught me? What am I, a fish?"_

_88 smiled. "No. Not a fish; not anymore. You're like Pinocchio; you've become a real agent."_

_"Pinocchio was a secret agent?"_

_"You know what I mean. As a matter of fact, with all the experience you've gained in the past three years, I'd go so far as to say you're the second most valuable agent we have." 88 grinned. "I'd tell you who's number one but modesty forbids."_

_"Well, given that when we started there were only the two of us here, that may not be a big a complement as it sounds."_

_"There is that," 88 admitted._

_"Why are you telling me this now?"_

_"You're the one that brought up the fish."_

_"Forget about the fish. What are you trying to tell me?"_

_"I just wanted to wish you good luck and I was afraid I might not get the opportunity."_

_"Good luck for what?"_

_"What shall we call it? Your trip?"_

_Maxine looked startled. "What trip? I don't know what you're talking about. Did Dad say something?"_

_"Calm down, Maxine. I know you can't talk about it but I wouldn't be worth my salt as Head of the Agents Section if I didn't know what was going on with my people whether the chief tells me or not."_

_"I would have told you if I could."_

_"You feel you owe this to Tom, don't you?"_

_"You know about Tom, too?" She rolled her eyes. "Look who I'm asking. Sometimes I think you must have the entire sum of world knowledge under that Curly Top of yours."_

_"Maybe just a couple of continents' worth. But I do understand what it's like to lose someone you were close to."_

_"You lost a boyfriend?"_

_"Not exactly."_

_"Girlfriend?"_

_Instead of the punchline Maxine was anticipating 88 just shrugged._

_Maxine's eyes widened. "Really? A girlfriend?" Maxine was silent for a moment. "I never knew."_

_"You never asked."_

_It was true, Maxine realized. She had been so intent on guarding herself emotionally in the wake of Tom's death that the possibility that 88 had an emotional life of her own had never occurred to her. She smiled by way of an apology. "That's my partner," she said with shake of her head. "Full of surprises right to the end."_

_"Surprise is the spice of life."_

_"I thought that was variety." One thing Maxine _had_ come to understand was that these seemingly flippant remarks were often 88's way of reaching out and Maxine's ability to respond in kind had been the bedrock of their friendship. By now it had become second nature; she felt sad to think that this might be the last time._

_"Even better," 88 came back, "but life _is_ a cabaret, isn't it?"_

_Maxine frowned. "Is that how you . . . look at me?"_

_"Like a cabaret?"_

_"No, like a . . . girlfriend."_

_88 turned up her nose. "Ew. No. That's disgusting."_

_"Why?" Maxine demanded, suddenly irritated. "What's wrong with _me_?"_

_"Nothing's _wrong_ with you. You're like my kid sister - or you would be except for one thing."_

_"What?"_

_"I don't have a kid sister."_

_Maxine paused in thought. "Before Zach and I knew anything about Control, when you or any of the other agents would come to the apartment, Mom and Dad would introduce you as 'aunts' and 'uncles'; that would make me your niece."_

_88 grinned. "You've been promoted."_

_Maxine gave her a long look. "Thank you for all you've done for me, 88. There's no way I'd be able to do this without everything you've taught me. I'll never be able to repay you for that."_

_"It's not necessary, Maxine. Your thanks is thanks enough for me. Anyway, it's no more than I owe your mother for teaching me. Consider it a link in the great chain of life."_

_"Great chain of life?"_

_"Too deep? I have others."_

_Maxine's eyes brimmed with tears. She reached out to hug 88, drawing her toward her. "I'd be proud to be your kid sister."_

_"Remember, Maxine. If you ever need anything - on the job or off - I'm here."_

_"I'll remember."_

_88 pushed Maxine back to arm's length. "Now get out of here. I have a new 'link' to break in - or should that be 'forge'?"_

_"You have a new partner picked out already?"_

_"Hey, life goes on, kiddo . . . I'm sure I've got that saying right."_

_"Who is it?"_

_"She's from the new graduating class. Agent 66? Your father thinks she has potential."_

_"I think I've seen her. Something tells me she's going to be trouble."_

_"Why do you say that?"_

_"Oh, I don't know." Maxine grinned slyly. "There's just something about those agents with the double-barrelled numbers."_

Maxine smiled to herself, savoring the memory. She took a steeling breath and got out of the car.

Concealed in a doorway, 88 watched her cross the street. She watched as Maxine walked into the theatre lobby. She watched until she could no longer see her through the theatre's glass doors.

Then, turning up the collar of her coat against the cold wind, 88 walked away.

-

Maxine made her way cautiously through the semi-darkened theater.

In stark contrast to her first visit, when the place was a hive of activity, her footsteps echoed eerily in the silence. She wondered whether she should have chosen a day when auditions were being held but decided that it was probably better this way.

She climbed up the steps to the stage she had briefly shared with 88 and looked around. "Anybody here?" she called out. "Siegfried?"

Suddenly a spotlight snapped on, temporarily blinding her.

"Welcome, Maxine," said a female voice. "I've been expecting you."

Maxine shaded her eyes. "Who are you? Where's Siegfiried?"

"Siegfried is no longer with us. He . . . outlived his usefulness. _I_ am Kaos now."

"You said you were expecting me. How did you know I was coming?"

"I saw your car parked out front."

"Oh. That _would_ explain it."

"And I heard on the grapevine that you are looking for a new employment opportunity."

From somewhere nearby came the bass thump of a music combo followed by wailing guitar and vocal.

_I bet you're wondrin' how I knew . . ._

Maxine looked around for the source. "What's that?"

"The rehearsal room next door," the voice explained. "This _is_ a theatre. One must keep up appearances."

_I heard it through the grapevine . . ._

Just as abruptly, the music stopped.

"What happened?" Maxine asked.

"Sound proof door."

"Too bad; they have a good beat. Was that the Creedence arrangement?"

"What are you really doing here, Maxine? You have enjoyed some success opposing Kaos, why would you want to join us now?"

"Your grapevine . . . " Maxine paused, listening. When nothing happened she went on. "Your grapevine must have told you that my brother is joining Control." Maxine put her hand to her heart with silent movie theatricality. "My father has always wanted his son by his side," she averred with just the right shade of bitterness. "Now that he's got him it's only a matter of time before he gives that moron everything that should rightfully be mine."

"I thought you were all Happy Families at Control."

"You know what happens when the boys get together. After all, you're a woman." Maxine squinted against the spotlight. "You are a woman, aren't you?"

"And you think you would be better appreciated here."

"I'm exploring my options," Maxine replied guardedly. No sense appearing too eager.

"Someone with your inside knowlegdge of Control would be a great asset but I will need more assurance than a sob story. Some demonstration of your sincerity. If you were expecting that I would take you in solely on the basis of some feminist soidarity then you will be disappointed."

"Actually, I was expecting Siegfried."

"You were expecting Siegfried to take you in based on feminist solidarity?"

"No, I meant . . . " Maxine shook her head. "What do you want me to do?"

"A commendable attitude. As it happens I do have a small task in mind that I wish you to perform."

"What is it?"

"Hardly anything at all; a minor assassination. Are you -"

"Assassination? That's not really something we do where I come from."

"An easily acquired skill," the woman said lightly. "Are you familiar with the Earthwide Industry, Economics & Investment Organization?"

"Of course. E.I.E.I.O. It's the international body charged with overseeing the global finance and trade system."

"Very good. And do you know the name Alan MacDonald?"

"Mmm. No. You've got me there," Maxine admitted.

"Correct again. There's no reason you should; he is one of many such functionaries at their headquarters in Zurich. You will - "

"Killing him is a bit extreme, isn't it? Couldn't you just have him taken away somewhere?"

"Taken away?" The voice sounded puzzled by the concept. "Taken away where?"

"How 'bout Bermuda? He'd probably enjoy the sun. Switzerland can get pretty cold with all that snow."

"You do not need to know the details. Just know that his death will be step one in a plan which will ultimately deliver me - "

"Wait. Don't tell me. World domination."

There was along pause before the voice spoke again. "Has anybody ever told you that you have an annoying habit of interupting?"

"I think someone started to tell me once but for some reason they never finished what they were going to say."

"I'm offering you an opportunity, Maxine. Communism is dead but today there is a new battlefield. As your new president has so eloquently put it, 'It's the economy, stupid.' And in this new arena, under my guidance, Kaos will prevail. Do me this small favor and I will allow you to join my winning team. And, yes, we _will _be the rulers of the world."

Maxine chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. "Do you have a health plan?"

A second spotlight snapped on revealing a young man standing only feet from Maxine. She had no way of knowing how long he may have been there.

"This is Nikolai," said the voice. (The man certainly got around.) "He will be your . . . supervisor. He will accompany you and . . . evaluate your performance."

"I haff been following your exploits from afar for some time," Nikolai told her. "It will now be my pleasure to observe you close up."

"Thank you," Maxine replied. "That's very flattering, and yet . . . creepy." She looked over the rugged young man, noting the large firearm he brandished. "Kalashnikov?"

"Nyet. Nikolai."

"Let me make it clear," the woman continued. "There is no turning back for you now. Either you eliminate your target or Nikolai will eliminate you and complete your task. Either way the mission will be completed. Do you understand?'

"I understand," Maxine replied gravely. But in her mind's eye she could see 88 grinning as she said, "Al MacDonald buys the farm at E.I.E.I.O."

-

_NOW:_

Maxine put the rifle down.

"Are you sure this is really necessary?" she asked.

Nikolai stared at her. "What are you talking about?'

"That poor schlub over there with no clue what's about to hit him. Surely there's a better way for civilized people to settle their differences."

"You heard de Chairwoman. Eider you kill de target or . . . " He indicated the gun he kept trained on her.

"We go duck hunting?"

"Or you are dead."

"Aw, you're no fun. You're supposed to say, 'It's wabbit season.'"

He pressed the gun into her ribs. "Kill him."

_"What happens when they want me to do something villainous?" Maxine asked._

_"Villainous?" Max repeated._

_"Yes."_

_"That's a good word. I think I'll write that down."_

_"Why?"_

_"I'm trying to expand my vocabulary. 'Vocabulary'; I think I'll write that down, too."_

_"Why are you trying to expand your vocabulary?"_

_"Haven't you heard, Maxine? There's a new administration coming to Washington. Have you heard how those people talk? They're like walking encyclopedias. Besides," he declared, slipping momentarily into glickspeak, "a word a day keeps Alzheimer's at bay. Oh! 'Alzheimer's'. That's another good one." He jotted down the last of the three words then looked up at Maxine. "What was the question?"_

_"Villainous," she reminded him. "Kaos is bound to want me to do something to prove my loyalty."_

_"I've already got that taken care of," Max told her. "I've had a direct communications channel set up for you. As soon as you know your target I'll arrange a substitution."_

_"What kind of substitution?"_

_"Well . . . say they want you to steal documents, then we'll substitute some worthless papers."_

_"What if they want me to kill someone?"_

_"Then we'll substitute some worthless person."_

_"Worthless person? Dad! Wouldn't it be better to use a dummy?"_

_"A dummy?" Max considered. "I like it. And it fits in better with us being the good guys, too. Very well. A dummy it is."_

Maxine pushed the gun away.

"Don't rush me. Do you want it done fast or do you want it done right?"

She lifted the rifle up and carefully took aim. She pulled the trigger and the figure jerked in the chair and slumped onto the floor.

-

Max paced nervously back and forth in front of his desk, alternating between checking his wrist watch and glancing at the wall clock. He'd quit smoking years ago but for the first time in a long time was wishing he hadn't.

He stopped pacing to glare at the newly-installed magenta-colored telephone sitting silently on the desk. Normally it would have been locked away in the bottom left-hand drawer, but right now it was out because he was expecting a call. Only one person had the number and she was late making her report.

He resumed pacing only to stop again when he found himself staring into the framed photograph holding pride of place on his office wall.

It had been taken the day he was shot down around South Poplar Street and showed the Chief - Max would never think of that man any other way - and Larabee supporting him as he tried to balance on a pair of mismatched crutches. For Max, it symbolized how the three of them had supported each other in their never-ending battle against the forces of evil. Now he was the only one left. Larabee's passing the year before had hit him particularly hard.

In the early days he had regarded Larabee as little more than an annoying pain in the neck but in recent times Max had begun to depend on him, even promoting him to Head of the Administration Section. Oh, Larabee had proven to be just as spectacularly incompetent in that post as in any other but that had not really been the point. Of Control's three sections Administration was the most automated - and his staff knew their jobs. No, what Larabee provided was continuity, a kind of institutional memory. In one guise or another Larabee had been with Control almost as long as Max himself - even during the dark days when Control wasn't even Control anymore. And it was he who had kept vigil in this very building when all others had abandoned it. In times of turbulence Larabee had remained a constant - and that kind of support would be hard to replace.

But that wasn't really the point either. It was not Max's job to bring back the past even if he could. Change, and with it renewal, was ongoing - at Kaos and Control, at the White House, all over the world. He had learned of Siegfried's demise over at Kaos but had had little time for gloating. Even Maxwell Smart wouldn't be around forever. Rebuilding Control to protect and serve the new generation was what this had always been about, he reminded himself, and in that, with Control's own new generation, he believed he had made a good start. With them would rest the future. _Only his legend will live on._

Thoughts of the 'new generation' brought his mind back to the magenta telephone and its overdue caller. He stared at it as if by sheer force of will he could make it ring. It did, which made him jump. He reached for the receiver but in his haste accidently knocked it off its cradle sending it skittering across the desk.

He managed to catch it before it fell over the edge and put it to his ear.

"Yes?"

"It worked, Dad. I'm in."

The End

of

"A Time to Spy"

(but not of the Smart family)


End file.
